Gee's Journal
by schizophrenic-SCARS
Summary: MCR AU. Gerard didn't want to keep a journal. This was the farthest thing he's ever wanted to do with his horrible teenage life. He doesn't have anything interesting going on right now. Well, he does find this guy sort of cute. His name's Frank.
1. Monday, September 21

**Disclaimer: We own nothing, except the plot.**

* * *

I can't believe Mama. She never cared once to even send me someplace to get me help, and now, today of all days—a Monday to be more exact, _ugh, Mondays are just fucking dreadful_—she finally gets the nerve to send me to one of those psycho doctors. Well, a therapist.

I don't like therapists. If you split the word into two parts, it totally spells _the rapist_, and that's just fucking _creepy as fuck_.

Anyway, my doctor, Dr. Miller, told me that I "had trouble opening up about my feelings," and I just stared at her, because she's totally lying, because, well, I would know if I "had trouble opening up about my feelings." And I don't, 'cause I open up about my feelings all the time.

It's just that nobody's around to listen to me.

I'm pathetic.

I had to stay in that Goddamn place for an hour. Maybe more. I don't know. I don't care. She just spat shit out to me, and then when she _finally_ noticed I wasn't even paying a bit of attention, she threw this fucking composition book at me and told me to "write down my thoughts and problems" in here. I tried to tell her that I didn't have any thoughts or problems, and she just got even angrier at me. I mean, I swear, smoke was blowing out of her ears and nose, like a frickin' dragon.

But of course, dragons aren't real. So, that must mean she isn't real. And if she isn't real, then this notebook I'm supposed to "write down my thoughts and problems" in isn't real. So, that means I can't "write down my thoughts and problems."

Fuck her; I'm not even going to write in here anymore. I'm just doing it for a day—_just one simple day_.

And then, I'm gonna stop, 'cause I don't want the dragon to read my stuff. She said she wasn't going to, but I know she will, because why else would she want me to bring it to her to our next session in a couple days?

She's weird, I'm weird, everybody's weird.

Except, well, the guy that's sleeping on my bedroom floor, in the corner.

Yeah.

He's not weird.

He's perfect.


	2. Tuesday, September 22

Okay, okay. I kind of lied. I know I said that I wouldn't write in here anymore, but it's just, well… it's kind of _pleasant _to write down what I think. It feels like someone cares, and I just… I'm happy.

Well, happy is an overstatement.

I'm not, like… happy enough to go out and, like, buy a dog. Is that what happy people do? I'm not sure…

My version of happy is… I can smile and not make it seem plastic, fake. Actually, I've been smiling a lot, and those smiles aren't forced. They're real, because y'know, I'm _happy_. That's odd for someone like me, because everybody expects someone that's a complete freak to always be miserable and have no friends, no one to talk to.

My journal is who I can talk to. Yeah. That sounds kinda pathetic, though.

What to write about now… Oh! I'm trying to scrape together some money to buy a really nice acoustic guitar for the boy that always sits in the corner of my bedroom. I know he plays guitar, because, yeah, I listen to him whenever we used to talk during our little sessions at the record store, where I work at… and I know he already has a guitar, but it's an electric one, and he can't play that in my house, because Mama will hear, and because it's at his house, and I can't go back to his house, 'cause, well, I fucking _kidnapped _him, and I don't think his mom will look too kindly on seeing her son's captor. So, I'm just going to buy him an acoustic.

Haha, I bet he doesn't even know I'm writing about him, plotting out what I'm going to get him.

Shit, he's staring at me.

Okay, I'm stupid. I just waved at him, and then just looked back down at this fucking book.

_I'm a fucking idiot!_

I totally did not just bang my head against my book. Yeah. I don't do that kind of stuff.

Onto the topic of him again, he seems really bored just sitting over there. I wonder what he does all day. I don't let him have any freedom… I bet he's looked through all my possessions. Well, good. I'm glad. Now, he knows if we ever get intimate, I have lubricant in the bottom drawer of my dresser.

I'm blushing. I'm a fucking idiot. Gargh.

I have a headache now, because I… well, I totally didn't just bang my head against the notebook again. I don't do that kind of stuff, man.

What do you think I am?

Crazy?


	3. Wednesday, September 23

I hate myself for going back to this journal. It just… It just feels so _right _to write down everything. I think I'm becoming a nicer person or something. I'm not sure. I'm just… scared.

I blame Frank.

He said it'll help me, but well, my therapist did, too, but I don't care about her.

I only care about him.

And he was right. It does help me.


	4. Thursday, September 24

Mondays and Thursdays—the days where I have to go and see my therapist, otherwise known as "the dragon".

This visit wasn't as bad as it was on Monday, I'll admit that. She told me to bring my journal to our next session last time, and she didn't even read it! She just had me show her that I written in it, like, she just took a quick glance at the papers. I'm happy about that. I don't think I'd enjoy it if people read the stuff I put in here.

I wish I had a cat. They're fluffy, soft, like my hair.

Yeah, I just took a shower, like the first one ever since a few weeks. Okay, maybe not weeks. More like a month or something. I'm nasty. It's just because of my hair dye. It runs out in a couple washes, and I don't want to keep dying it over and over again. That'll damage my hair, wouldn't it? Besides, a little dirt is good for hair.

I smell like coconuts. I wonder if Frank'll point it out. I hope. I like getting compliments from him.

Oh, well.

I feel like cuddling under the covers all night, not even move once. I think I'll do that. I wonder if Frank'll join me. I hope. I like being close to him.


	5. Friday, September 25

I just… I don't understand why Mama would sit me down right when I'm about to drive to school and… talk to me about, well, _me_. I mean, sure, yeah, she's my mother, and she's supposed to know some of that stuff, but… I just don't understand.

"Why don't you want me to go down into your room?"  
_Well, probably because it's_ my _room_.  
"Why do you always keep the door locked?"  
_I don't want you opening the door and letting the scent of candles going down there. It gives me a headache sometimes.  
_"Candles give you a headache? I would imagine the smell of dirty clothes and vomit would give you a headache."  
_Wow, thanks for lowering my self-esteem even lower. I love you, too.  
_"Why do you think you have such a low self-esteem? What's wrong, Gee? We used to be so close."  
_No, we fucking didn't. I wasn't close to anyone, except Mikey, and_ you took him away from me.

And that's when I flipped her off and strutted out of that house like the badass motherfucker I fucking am.

Yeah, I'm a badass, because when I got home, I just went down to my room, cracked the door just a little bit, so she wouldn't get angry, told my baby to stay away from that one side of my room that can be seen with the door open, and then went on to crawl into my bed and be pathetic.

I felt really bad, and I tried to get my mind off the emotional rollercoaster I was on by reading the last _Harry Potter_ book, 'cause it's fucking _Harry Potter_, and that shit just cheers everyone up, but then I ended up breaking down and yelling and kicking blankets off my bed and papers off my desk when I read the part when Hedwig died.

When Mama got home and peeked into my room, noticing everything was a complete wreck, she called me into her room and tried to pressure me into telling her what was wrong.

"Did something happen at school? Did someone call you a name? Did someone make fun of you?"  
_No, yes, and yes, but that's not why I'm upset.  
_"What happened, dear?"  
_You mean at school? You actually care? Wow.  
_"Gerard, don't talk to me like that."  
_Well, you don't! You hardly even know what's even going on in my life. You don't even know how I feel!_  
"It's because you never open up and let someone know, Gerard! Just, sit back down and talk to me. Help me understand."  
_No! Even if I told you, you still wouldn't get it! Only two people understand me, and you took one of them away from me! And guess what! You're not the other person either!_  
"Then, who is Gerard?"  
_Frank, Mama. Frank understands me._

She just stared at me all wide eyed and told me to get out of her room, stand out in the hallway while she went on to call my therapist, well, I think it was her, since Mama came out of her room and told me we're going up to her office tomorrow at nine AM.

I didn't argue; I just went back to my room. I even made my footsteps louder than they usually are, and I made sure to slam the bedroom door as loud as possible.

Then, I lay down on my bed and cried like the pussy I actually am. I curled in a ball on my only blanket I had managed to keep on the mattress and fucking balled like a newborn.

Of course, I'm still balling right now as I write out this entry.

I want Frank to hold me, wipe away each of my tears with the soft pad of his thumb, softly tuck strands of my greasy hair behind my ears, and gently kiss the quivering out of my lips.

Will I get any of those?

Probably not.


	6. Saturday, September 26

I don't know what's wrong with me. I don't know why I keep writing about him.

My therapist thinks he's not real—someone I made up to mess with people's heads, someone that could be my friend, since somebody like me will never have anyone that'll consider me a friend.

But he's not made up.

He's real, and he's perfect, and, and.

And I love him.


	7. Sunday, September 27

I can't believe what I just wrote. I can't… Oh, shit. I can't believe I actually said that, well… wrote. That's the first time I've ever said that… wrote it.

But yes, I love Frank. I don't exactly know why, but I think it's probably because I'm fucked up, and I like things I can't have. That's why I took him.

Over these past few weeks that I've spent with him, I can honestly say that I admire him.

I admire his looks. I admire his personality. And lastly, I admire his will to live. He honestly believes that he'll be able to get out of room, my house, my life… alive.

And I wish he could, but, but.


	8. Monday, September 28

Yippee. Another fuckin' therapy session.

It wasn't all that bad, I must admit. We just talked and shit, and she even brought out some board games, so we could play. I was just sitting there, like, _fuck yeah, board games! _because I haven't played them since my brother left.

I don't really have anything else to write, which kinda sucks… Oh! I found a guitar for Frankie! It's an acoustic, like I said before… I'm planning to give it to him tomorrow or someday later this week…

I had a dream about him last night… but it's not unusual, 'cause I always dream about him, but this one was strange.

I let him go.

I would never do that.

I took him back to his house and dropped him off by the front door. We were holding hands, and he had squeezed my hand, tightly hugged me, and told me _thank you _before going through the door and getting engulfed into a comforting hug by his mother.

I wonder. Should I let him go?

I don't want to.

But he had looked so happy seeing his mother, and… he doesn't look that happy staying here with me.

I don't know what to do.


	9. Tuesday, September 29

Yeah, yeah, I know. It's technically _Wednesday_, but I don't care. It's still Tuesday for me. I'm pulling an all-nighter, and until I fall asleep, this day will be Tuesday to me.

I'm feeling angsty, moody, depressed. I'm confused.

Mikey called me earlier today. He wanted to see how it was going, if I'm okay… how much he misses me.

_I miss him so much!_

I remember when we were younger, and we used to hide underneath my bed, and… and… _touch_, like brothers shouldn't.

I'm crying now… I should stop writing about this. I need to think happy thoughts. _Happy thoughts, happy thoughts, happy thoughts!_

I'm not going to school tomorrow or work if I'm pulling an all-nighter. I won't. Mama won't be able to get me to. Nope.

I think I'm just going to watch some TV, draw a little, maybe make my relationship with Frank a bit more… intimate?

Nah, that won't happen.


	10. Wednesday, September 30

I don't want to go to school today. Not even work.

Mama can try all she wants, but I will _not _leave my room.

All I wanna do is be held by Frank. Just that. Nothing else.

Oh, and watch _Weeds_. Yeah.


	11. Thursday, October 1

I got Frank a guitar. I'm planning to give it to him very, very soon, considering that I'm back from the therapist. I had to tell him to stay on my bed until I got home, since the guitar's under the bed, or else he'll be in big trouble. And he's seen me when I got angry before. Not pretty.

I'm really, really depressed.

No, it wasn't about the therapy session. That went just great. It's just that… Mikey called me when I was on my way to work.

I miss him… and he said he misses me, and he loves me, but why would he do this to me?! _Why?!_

I heard my phone ring in my pocket…

It was playing some Iron Maiden song…

I picked up, knowing it was Mikey…

Me: Hi, Mikey! How's it going?  
Mikey: Just great, Gerard. What about you?  
Me: Eh, could be better. Why'd you call? What happened?  
Mikey: I got a girlfriend, bubby!

I almost wrecked my Trans AM. I had to pull over for several minutes just to cry. Mikey asked me what was wrong, but I just told him I would call him back later.

I was late for work.

I don't really know why I was crying. I mean, I should be really fuckin' glad my brother found someone, but… I just think it's because I love him more than I should, and… my heart hasn't fully become detached from him just yet.

I think it should be… I have Frank in my life—someone that's not my brother.

I'm just… really disgusting.


	12. Friday, October 2

I gave Frank his guitar yesterday, and he was still talking about it when I came home from work. I'm happy he likes it.

Really and truly.

I'm just writing down a quick entry 'cause I wanna watch this movie. I don't think Frank's seen it yet, so I'm going to have to hide the guitar under my bed, so he'll watch it with me, cuddle with me.

It's a foreign film, but really, really fantastic. I hope he'll like it. I do.


	13. Saturday, October 3

I feel fully refreshed. I had a great night yesterday.

Frankie really enjoyed the movie, and after Oskar spelled out _kiss_ in Morse Code to Eli in the box, I turned to Frank and grabbed his hand, slowly pulling out his arm. I pulled his t-shirt sleeve up all the way and slowly tapped out _kiss_.

-.- .. … …

I slowly looked up at him, and our eyes met, and he just grabbed my face in his hands and kissed me with great force.

And then, we just started rolling around on the bed, listening to the credits roll and continuing to kiss.

It was… just… magical.

I really love him. I do.

Now, I'm going to have get ready to go to work. I don't want to leave Frank all alone, but I have to. Well, at least he has his guitar now.

Maybe he can write me a song, but I know that's highly unlikely.


	14. Sunday, October 4

I'm surprised Frank can learn a song that fast on his guitar. I'm proud of him… so much.


	15. Monday, October 5

The therapist told me to draw a picture of Frank today. She said she wanted to see who made me happy all the time. Without thinking, I did a quick sketch of him looking down at the ground, playing a guitar. I made sure to make him look exactly like how he did yesterday. I thought I done a pretty good job until she told me to draw a picture of his face. I was weary at first, but I gave in and drew a fantastic image of him sleeping on my bed. She got mad at me, then, and told me to draw one when he had his eyes open, like if he was staring at me. I got frustrated with her, but did as she said. The product was a picture of his full face, and he was crying. She didn't ask me about that, though, but what she did say shocked me.

_That boy looks very familiar._

I threw up on her desk.


	16. Tuesday, October 6

Mama asked me how Frank was today.

I don't know what she's playing. I just looked at her and said that he was doing great, since his biological parents came and picked him up. They're now going to California. He's going to a special Academy that can help him control his powers. Yeah, he has powers. He can… talk to the dead.

She blinked and asked me if he was actually one of my characters I made up for my comic book.

I nodded.

I think she'll be off my back about him for a while. I mean, there's nothing wrong with talking to your characters, right?

Well, he's not really a character, but y'know what I mean.


	17. Wednesday, October 7

Frank's been playing his guitar all the time, and I'm just so proud of him.

I've also started to work on this comic book… Mama made me. I know she'll ask sooner or later how it was going, so I'm just drawing some random characters that pop up in my head. I think it's turning pretty good so far, but I'm not really sure…

Oh! Frank's going to play me a song now. I gotta go.


	18. Thursday, October 8

I met this guy at the therapist's today. His name's Brendon, and he's going through the same thing I am. He says he has this boy named Ryan locked up in his room, too. I started to feel not-so-alone anymore, since I found someone else like me.

But then, when the therapist called him back to do his session, his mother leaned over to me. She said, "I'm sorry about Brendon. He's schizophrenic. The medicine doesn't quite work for him, and he's been thinking that the ghost of his dead friend keeps following him around, because they never got to experience being in an intimate relationship together." She shook her head, then, and sighed. "His father tried sending him to a mental institution, and then a straight camp, but"—she rolled her eyes—"he's forever doomed."

I began to question my sanity after that.


	19. Friday, October 9

I hit Frank today.

I really didn't mean to. I really didn't, but that fuckin' Brendon kid apparently goes to my school, and the reason I never seen him around before is that his parents just now sent him after God-knows-how-long. His therapist thought it be wise to send him to school, so they'll know if Ryan is actually following him around there, too.

Guess what! He fucking does.

I don't know if his parents are just really _stupid_ or something, because I can see Ryan, too. I yelled at them for holding hands in the lunch room today.

Yeah, Brendon followed me around today, because "I'm his only friend here, besides you, Ryan, I love you, Ryan". Yeah, I know. Made me sick.

So, I think Brendon's parents are just fuckin' retarded, or I could be schizophrenic like Brendon. I hope I'm not.

And that what brought me to punch Frank.

I ran down to my room after school and punched him right in the jaw. I heard him cry and his jaw pop out of place, so I'm guessing he's real. Mama even heard a loud yelping sound, so that just further proves Frank's real, and I'm not schizophrenic.

He's still crying. I apologized for hitting him, but I guess words can't make the blood and pain go away.

I'll hold him, kiss him, cry with him.

_Everything's going to be okay, Frankie…  
I promise, sugar…_


	20. Saturday, October 10

I called off work today. I wanted to stay home with Frank, try and make it up to him somehow.

He's been avoiding me, and I haven't felt this miserable in months. I don't want him mad at me, ignoring me.

Frank! I'm sorry!

I'm going to hold him while we watch _Let the Right One In_ again. I'll even do what we did before.

-.- .. … …

I just… don't want him mad at me. I really don't.

.. / .-.. —- …- . / -.— —- ..- —..— / ..-. .-. .- -. -.- —..— / … —- / ..-. ..- -.-. -.- .. -. —. / — ..- -.-. …. .-.-.-

.- -. -.. —..— / .. .—. — / … —- .-. .-. -.— .-.-.-


	21. Sunday, October 11

I don't know what exactly happened, but… Frank and I… we… slept together.

It was after the movie, and I turned to Frank, kissed him, and he pulled away from me, still scared. I was hurt, so I told him I would help him feel safer. I helped him get dressed in the clothes I took him in, and then… it just… sorta happened.

We were just kissing, and I was really surprised that Frank was kissing me back, and then… clothes started getting pulled off, we started to softly whimper and moan, and… the smell of cherries was everywhere.

We… It was amazing, and I think I helped him a lot. He's not that reserved from me anymore, so I'm glad about that.

It… felt nice to finally show him how I felt about him. And… I can't believe I'm not a virgin anymore. I thought nobody would want to bed me, but I guess I was wrong.

I want to replay that night over and over and over again.

"I love you, Frank."  
"I love you, too, Gerard."

That was the first time he ever said it back.


	22. Thursday, October 15

Frank's gone.

I'll, I'll try to recount everything that's happened.

_Monday_—Dr. Miller took my journal, claimed she had to read it for "personal reasons". I felt sick to my stomach. I didn't want her reading about what Frank and I did. But then, I remembered Frank's just one of my comic book characters, so I shouldn't worry about anything.

_Tuesday_—I pushed Frank down the stairs, and he hurt his wrist really bad. He wanted some hot chocolate, so we quietly went upstairs. I fixed him some, like the good boyfriend I am. We were planning to go back to my room, but he turned into the living room, going to sit down on the couch. I didn't think about my next actions. I just grabbed his arm, yanked him away with wide eyes. This caused him to drop the mug of liquid to the ground, making a big loud crash. I had also spilled it on him, so he was yelling, because of the burns. I panicked, and I pushed him over to my bedroom doorway. I shoved him down the stairs, because I heard Mama coming. I couldn't have her finding Frank, so I just bent down to pick up the pieces of broken glass. I told her I dropped it, and then I went on to yell at her to leave me alone. After cleaning, I went downstairs to check on Frank. He was extremely pissed off at me, and I threw a tantrum, resulting with me going to the bathroom and vomiting several times.

_Wednesday_—I went to school, like a normal little boy, and when I came home, Frank was gone. At first I thought he was hiding, so I went to look under all my furniture and even in the bathroom. Once my search came up negative, I went back upstairs only to find my mother sitting on the couch. I didn't know why she was there since she gets off work later than I do, so naturally, I asked. She told me to sit down, and I did. She went on to tell me she saw the missing boy who's been gone for a few months in our house, in the kitchen, fixing himself some hot chocolate. She, then, said that she called the police, and they came and took him away, sent him back to his mother's. Mama and the police didn't understand why he was putting up a fight, practically screaming and kicking at the cops to put him down, to let him go back down to my room and sit on my bed. This was when I screeched "it's because he loves me, you fucking bitch!" before violently slapping her across the face and running down to my room.

And today, I went to the therapist. Mama was in the room with me. She and Dr. Miller talked about my "condition", and how I should be put somewhere for a while, at least until I realize what I done was wrong, but I don't see how, though. Love's not wrong, is it? I tried telling Mama that, but she just ushered me away, told me to wait outside in the lobby. I loudly groaned, kicked a chair over, and walked out.

With my foot painfully throbbing, I started into the waiting room, and guess who the first person I see is!

Fuckin' Brendon.

I thought back to when I first met him, and then I realized that everything just started crumbling whenever he told me he had Ryan following him around. He said he took him, just like what I done, but his parents thought he was schizophrenic, because they never saw the guy.

Well, now, I'm depressed and a little bit pissed at him. So, I only did the reasonable thing.

I started toward him, grabbed his arm, and yanked him into Dr. Miller's office. I threw him on the ground, kicked at him until he couldn't get up anymore, and blood was pouring out of his mouth. The therapist and Mama tried to stop me, but I screamed and threw myself against the wall.

"He took someone, too! He kidnapped Ryan! He's not schizophrenic! He took him! He took him! Take Ryan away from him! It's not fair!"

Everything just seemed to happen in fast-forward mode. I didn't remember anything, except that I'm supposed to stay in this treatment home for a few days, maybe even weeks, I'm not sure. I think this place is for delusional teens who are troubled, and there's no possible way of getting them any kind of help.

I'm doubled on therapy sessions with this fuckin' dude named Biersack or something. Sounds stupid.

They put me on this kind of antidepressant. I'm not entirely sure why. I'm fine. I'm not sad. Well, yeah, I am, but I'm madder than anything. They won't let me see Frank or even talk to him. I think that's bullshit. Shouldn't patients get to see their boyfriends? Won't that help the process of "getting better" get better?

Everybody's stupid here, I swear.

Oh, and Brendon's my roommate. They said I needed to get along with him more since he, most likely, will be my only friend here, and he's also kidnapped someone as well, so they wanted me to feel "at home". I didn't know teens taking other teens were so rare. Huh.

Fuck, Brenfag—Brendon—wants me to put together a puzzle with him. It's the least thing I could do. I mean, I did beat him and cause him to be in here with me.

If I can't have Frank, Brendon shouldn't be allowed to have Ryan.

Sounds pretty fair to me.


	23. Friday, October 16

The people here think it's a treat to let us all watch a movie every Friday night. They forced me to sit through this one since it's only my second day here. They told me that I could stop coming to them in a few weeks. Fuck them. I wanna leave now!

We're watching some stupid Disney movie, and no, it's not the good ones, like… _The Lion King_ or _101 Dalmatians_. No, no, it had to be fuckin' _Aladdin_.

At least I'm allowed to write in my journal.

Shit, Brendon just sat down in the same chair as me. He curled up next to me and held on, burying his head in my neck. He murmured something stupid under his breath before crying out "Ryan", and then silently sobbing.

Ugh, I'll have to hug him or something.

Fuuuuuuck.


	24. Saturday, October 17

I hate this fucking place with all my heart.

I've never hated something so much in my life until now.

I mean, seriously. The doctors here never give you any freedom, and they expect you to show up at group therapy on time every single day. That's just stupid. I don't want to go there. I have nothing to say.

God, I'm so annoyed right now. I just… hate it here with a burning passion. I guess I'll just play a board game with Brendon. He's been bugging me about it ever since we woke up.

Oh, yeah, when I woke up around eight, Brendon was in my bed.

I don't know why, but I feel like I shouldn't question it, so I won't.


	25. Monday, October 19

I hate this place. They believe in, like, dressing us up in nice clean clothes, and then taking us to a church. Some of the nurses told us that letting God into our life would help us a lot onto the road of recovery. I couldn't believe the bullshit that they were saying.

I mean, I'm Catholic, yeah, but… I don't really think God can really do anything. He made us like this in the first place, so would He really want us to get fixed? He programmed us to turn out like this for a reason, but I don't know the reason.

I wanted to get a quick entry down before I head off to go to a therapy session with good ol' Biersack. Oh, and Brendon's gonna be there. Biersack said that getting us together would possibly help us getting fixed, because we both have the same "illness".

God, I hate it here.


	26. Tuesday, October 20

I know this is really strange and out of character for me to say, but I… I'm so happy right now.

Apparently, if you're good over a course of a couple days, they allow people to contact you, call the Institution, and actually talk to you!

At first, when the lady came into the cafeteria area, I thought she was going to hand the phone to Brendon, because he was attached to my arm, but she handed it to me and said, "It's someone by the name of 'Mikey'."

I totally flipped my shit, and I grabbed the phone with both hands and practically screamed into it.

Turns out, it wasn't Mikey who called.

It was Frank.

It's been well over several minutes since I got off the phone with him, and I just feel fantastic! I'm great! I might even put together a puzzle with Brendon later and actually be into it.

I can't wait for tomorrow. He said he'd call again, and I'm so excited. I don't think I can go to sleep tonight.

Is that a problem? I don't care. I'm happy.


	27. Wednesday, October 21

It sucks that they don't let you watch whatever you want here. I wanted to watch _Weeds_, but they say it's not "appropriate".

I'm waiting for Frank to call as I write this. Yesterday, he called around seven. Right now… it's nearing nine o'clock…


	28. Thursday, October 22

Frank was just taking a shower. That's why he called late yesterday. I felt so relieved when I heard his voice.

I can't wait 'til he calls today, too.

But for now, they're making all of us eat what they call dinner. It looks at noodles and pudding, but it's really cardboard and icky shit.

They taste terrible. I'm surprised nobody died from explosive diarrhea yet. Anyway, all the good food is served late at night, when nobody would even think to be awake. I'm awake, though, and the cafeteria guy lets me choose whatever I want, but it's mostly just Kool-Aid and some cereal. His name's Tom. He's my favorite worker here so far. He treats me like a person.

Oh! The lady at the desk just called for me! That means Frank!

Look at me, I'm squealing like a small fangirl.

I'm stupid.


	29. Friday, October 23

They're letting me see Frank tomorrow! They're letting me see Frank tomorrow!

I just might explode!

I'm so ecstatic! They're actually letting me out of the Institution, letting me go to Frank's house, and letting me take him out on a date.

Gargh! I'm so happy! I can't wait 'til tomorrow, like seriously. I'm gonna have to clean up, wear something nice, plan out a date… maybe going to see a movie… dinner and a movie… I don't know. I'm just… happy.

I hope everything turns out all right.


	30. Saturday, October 24

It's very, very, _very_ late. I just got home, well not home, I just got back to the Institution, and we had a really great time. I know we did. He really enjoyed himself.

Okay, first, I didn't have time to take a shower, so I tried to bathe myself with a bunch of Axe or whatever Brendon let me use. It smelled good. Anyway, I haven't exactly looked at myself in a mirror in a long time, and well, my hair is completely brunet now. Not an inch of black anywhere! Oh, and it's gotten longer, like, it's down to my shoulders now, and it's all wavy, and it curls at the ends. I dressed in a white collared shirt and black skinnies, but Frank looked better.

He was wearing all black, except for his tie, which was red. He looked gorgeous. He also had a cast on his arm, so I'm guessing he actually did break his wrist from where I pushed him down the stairs.

We ate at this restaurant, and then went to see a movie. I couldn't tell you the details of it. I wasn't really paying attention to the screen, if you know what I mean.

When the movie was over, I drove Frank back to his house. We kissed some more, and then he started to pull me into his house, and I was guessing he was going to show me his bed or something, but then his mom showed up and made me leave.

But I came back a few hours later.

And we fucked.

Hard.

Nah, I mean, I think it was sweeter than anything. Like, we knew we weren't going to see each other as often, because this could've been a one time thing, so we wanted to make it special… and quiet.

Now, I think I'm going to take a shower. I feel like a skank, and Brendon keeps asking me what we did.

Like I'm going to tell him.


	31. Monday, October 26

I hate Church—seriously. They made us all confess our sins yesterday, and they punished me for saying "Forgive me, Father, but I had awesome butt sex with my boyfriend on Saturday."

I can't talk to Frank for a few days now.

I don't know why. I just did what they told me to.


	32. Tuesday, October 27

Today was boring.

I don't really have anything else to write down, which is a bit sad.

I'll just go hang out with Brendon or something. I don't know.


	33. Wednesday, October 28

You won't believe what happened last night! Okay, well, somehow, I managed to talk to Frank on the phone for a little bit, and then I got to see him!

Let me explain. I had to have someone come with me, so I wouldn't escape or anything. It's stupid. Tom, the guy that gives me all the Kool-Aid and Frankenberry, drove me to a café, and Frank and I talked there for a while, and then he drove us back to Frank's house, and we, let me say, got intimate.

Last night was just really special to me, and I don't know what I'd do if I wouldn't be able to be that close to Frank again. I'll go crazy! Even crazier than I already am. And I'm already pretty crazy. That's why I'm in here, right?

Oh, well, I have to go off and have a session with Biersack now. Ugh. Brendon's coming with me. Double ugh.

He keeps going on and on about how he got to see Ryan a few days ago. He swears they didn't fuck, but what else could he mean when he says they got "intimate physically"? I don't know. He's crazy. I'm crazy.

I'm just worrying that, later on, when I get outta here, if Frank and I will still be in a relationship. I mean, we _have to be_. Whenever I think of him with someone else, I get sick, and I have to stay near a bathroom for the rest of the day. It gets pretty bad.

But I know he won't leave me. We're in love, and nothing can tear us apart.


	34. Thursday, October 29

Mikey just called a few minutes ago for the first time in forever.

He wanted to let me know Daddy's really sick, but he's staying strong, and they think he's going to pull through, which I'm really glad about, even if Daddy never did like me that much.

Mikey told me he missed me, and he's been meaning to come down here and visit, but with Daddy being ill, he has to watch him.

The sad part's that he asked me how Mama's been doing, but I really have no idea. I haven't seen or heard from her ever since I got locked up in here. I miss her.

I think it's also sad that Mikey didn't exactly know that I got sent here. He told me that Mama told him a few days ago when he called and wanted to know how I was doing.

It sucks. I hate it here, but at least I can drink all the Kool-Aid I want, and I have someone that always keeps me company, even if he is rather annoying.


	35. Friday, October 30

Biersack and I talked about Mikey today.

I talked about him for forty straight minutes, and after I was done, he said, "I think you have a very close relationship with your brother, but when I say the word close, I mean… too close."

I just stared at him with a furrowed brow, and he sighed. "Do you love him?"

"Of course I do! He's my brother!" I smiled, and he frowned.

"But are you in love with him?"

I paused.

"Like… do you love him… in a sexual way?"

I don't get it. Why do people always think Mikey and I done shit in the past? I mean, we totally did, but that doesn't mean people have to bring it up every Goddamn time I talk about him.

Anyway, I spat at Biersack's head and clawed at his face, and now, I've been sent to stay in my room all weekend.

I guess the only good thing about this is that I don't get to see Brendon.

I'm scared to admit this, but I'm starting to miss him. It was nice having some company.


	36. Saturday, October 31

I tried to write a song while I was stuck in my room. I even tried to sing it, but it kinda hurt, like… my mouth does, my teeth. I don't know what's happening! Gargh!

I was going to scream and call it 'Bring More Knives', but I don't know what to do nowwwww. Waaaaaa.

Dear Lord, I don't know what's wrong with me.

I've gone crazy.

I hope they let me go to Church tomorrow. Maybe if I confess or some stupid shit, they'll let me walk around here and not be locked up.

I'm going to try and sing again.

_"Never trust," you said._  
_Who put the words in your head?_  
_Oh, how wrong we were to think_ _that immortality meant never dying…_


	37. Monday, November 2

This is _really_ weird, but I actually enjoyed Church yesterday. And yes, they let me go. I told them I was going to confess, and I did, just to make them happy.

Then, after, they let us to go to McDonald's. It was awesome.

But while we were at the Church… it was just weird. I was hanging with Brendon in this empty room, and he just turns to me and hugs me. He held me and murmured my name several times before pulling away and shutting the door, so we were completely locked together.

He went back up to me, placed his hands on my shoulders, and asked me if I could see Frank anywhere in here. I took a quick look around, and then shook my head, because I really didn't see him, and I felt a bit sad. Brendon could see Ryan, but then I remembered that Brendon was a bit odd, so I didn't think much of it.

The thing I did find out of character for the freak was that he held me again, whispered in my ear, "Ryan gave me permission", and then proceeded to kiss me open-mouthed on my bottom lip with _way_ too much fuckin' tongue. Seriously, he just planted it there and just started licking my lips.

And all I did was just stand there with wide eyes.

I really think Brendon needs help. He said Ryan visits him, but when I asked Tom, he said they don't allow visitors when you first get here. You have to wait until a few months pass by, and then they think about it. Tom also told me that he knows some of the patients that's been here for two or even more years who haven't had a single visitor, and that makes me really sad.

Doesn't their family care about them?

Don't they have friends?

A girlfriend?

A boyfriend?

Children?

All this made me think back to Frank.

And it caused me to wrap my arms around Brendon and kiss him back.

My reasoning?

_Frank gave me permission._


	38. Tuesday, November 3

So many things happened today, and I'm still crying. I think I'm just emotional.

Well, first, I never even came out of my room until it turned night time. I just laid on my bed all day.

Guess what I was doing.

Give up?

I was making out with Brendon.

I know, I know. I'm crazy.

It was pleasant, though, I have to admit. I woke up crying, because of this bad dream that I had. I dreamt that Frank cheated on me, and I know he would never do that, but it just scared me, y'know? So, I was crying, and Brendon came over, and I noticed he was crying, too, and he told me that he dreamt that Ryan was cheating on him, too.

And one thing led to another, and we spent that whole entire day just lying on my bed and kissing.

Then, probably around eight, nine, when we both finally noticed that we were hungry, we came out and headed to the cafeteria, but a worker stopped me and said I had a phone call. I got all excited, because I thought it was Frank, so I ran over to the phone and held it close to my ear. I listened for a few moments, and at first I thought the phone went dead or that lady pulled a trick on me, because I couldn't hear anything.

But when I was about to hang up, I heard Frank's voice! I started to bounce on my heels, and when I was about to say his name, I heard him say, "You look beautiful." I looked down at my clothing, wondering how he could possibly see me, but I slowly began to realize something.

He wasn't talking to me.

Soon after, I heard him and someone else roll around on his bed, moaning, panting, groaning, and him saying how he missed being with them.

Needless to say, I got pissed.

I yelled into the phone, ripped it from the machine, and then went on to tear up the other phones by it.

Nobody came until I started throwing around anything that I could grab onto, and that someone was Brendon.

He held me around my waist and tried to get me to calm down. He was shaking me, and I was thrashing around, screaming at the top of my lungs. I wouldn't listen to him. He was telling me that whatever I heard wasn't true. He sometimes heard things whenever Ryan called him, but he just ignores it.

The only thing wrong with that is that Ryan hasn't called him, I don't think. Last time I talked to Tom, he said Ryan hasn't called.

I continued yelling and throwing things until some guys picked me up and carried me to the basement of the Institution. They threw me into this padded room by myself and closed the door.

They came back down after a few hours to give me my journal, and that's all what happened so far.

I don't understand.

Why would Frank do that to me?


	39. Wednesday, November 4

I didn't want to be stuck in solitary confinement any longer, so I harmed myself.

I don't exactly know what I did, but I woke up in the little infirmary they have here. My head's bandaged up, and it hurts, so I must have hit my head on something. I don't really know what I could have hit it on, though. There's just a bunch of padding down there.

I also had bandages around my hands, my fingertips mostly. I must have yanked out my hair or something.

I'm not sad. I needed a hair cut anyway.

I had been in the infirmary for a couple hours now, and nobody visited me, not even Brendon. I, at least, thought his faggot ass would flutter on down here, but I guess not.

I try not to get affected by this, but I can't help it.

I was starting to cry just as the white doors opened, letting Tom, the cafeteria guy, enter. He walked over to my bed and told me Frank called, and he wanted to talk to me. I don't want to talk to him, and I showed my disgust by crawling under the covers and growling.

I heard Tom laugh from above me, and he crawled under the covers with me. When I raised my head, our faces were inches apart. I could smell his cologne—Axe?—and I began to cry more. He had a lip ring, and the covering above us reminded me of my bed. I felt safe under my bed. I felt safe right now, but Frank wasn't here to kiss me, so I cried.

Tom wanted to know why I was crying, and he even wiped off the tears that stained my flushed cheeks. I couldn't tell him. He asked me what Frank did to me. I lost control. I clung to him and spilled out everything.

Tom didn't say anything. He just hugged me, rubbing the back of my tender head. He told me Frank was a dick to do that to me, and I started to believe him, but it hurt. I still loved Frank. I'll never stop loving him.

I stayed under the covers, on top of Tom, tracing the letters on his name tag. I only got "TOM DELON" before I fell asleep and dreamt of me killing Frank and Brendon killing Ryan. We walked away from the crime scene hand-in-hand, and we eventually melted into a puddle of dark liquid that spilled over the concrete and spelled out "FREAKS!"

I don't know what the dream meant. I just want Frank and a cup of Kool-Aid.


	40. Thursday, November 5

I'm still stuck in the infirmary, and Frank called me today. They told me it was Mikey. It wasn't.

I don't remember most of the conversation, but I do remember we were yelling a lot, and I cried.

I also remember what I said before I hung up. Well, I threw the phone against the wall and yelled, and Tom ran in and held me while I sobbed and convulsed and threw up in this shitty bucket they gave me.

Frank said that letting me hear them fuck was the only way he could tell me that him and his old girlfriend were back together.

My response?

"No, it fuckin' wasn't. You could've just told me, Frank! I would've handled things a lot differently. But no, you had to go off and fuck her! You have no fucking idea how attached I am to you, Frank, and you think going off and fucking that girl will just cut me out of your life that easily, then fine, believe that. But, let me tell you, most kidnappers take their victims more times than once, so when I get outta here, I'll be sure to get you back to me once and for all, and I'll make sure you won't escape from me this time."

I hope he took it well. I know I did.


	41. Friday, November 6

I'm out of the infirmary. My head still hurts, unfortunately. I feel it throb every few minutes on the hour. They're giving me pain meds, but they're not helping a lot.

I think they've banned phone calls for me, because Frank hasn't called me at all. I wonder why. I don't think I really done anything, but eh, I'm known to be a bit creepy. Brendon told me that.

When I walked out of the infirmary, I ran right up to him and hugged him and wouldn't let go until he threatened to get a different room and leave me alone. I don't want that. I like the company. I think I said that before, but who's counting?

I hope I don't have to go to extra sessions with Biersack since I got put into solitary. I don't really like him. I like Dr. Miller better. Brendon likes the dragon better, too. Haha, _the dragon_. I still remember that! I'm glad I didn't hurt my head enough to severely damage some brain cells or something.

Brendon wants me to come with him while he calls Ryan. I guess I'll come. It's better than staying in here by myself.

My head still hurts.

Aw, Brendon's holding my hand.


	42. Monday, November 9

Biersack took my journal. I know, right? Shit.

Nothing exciting happened recently, which is a bit sad.

Well, on Sunday, Brendon and I found a Lady Gaga CD lying around, and we played it on one of their big stereos, and 'Born This Way' started playing, and _everybody danced to it_.

It was pretty awesome, but then they made us sit in the bus while the rest of the patients got in hang at McDonald's. I found that totally unfair, because this was the first time they took us to the McDonald's that has a fuckin' play place in it, and we weren't even allowed to see it.

Grumble, grumble.

Anyway, Brendon and I had a super hot make out session on the bus, though, so I guess it balances out. I'm not sure.

He was pushing me against the window, and my head was hurting like a motherfucker, because he smashed it against the wall beforehand. He just moaned into my mouth, drooled on me a little bit, and then started stroking me through my Church pants.

Haha, _Church pants_.

Anyway, I just kinda froze up, and he stopped and held me, told me he knew I wasn't detached from Frank just yet, and he started pushing this shit on me that Ryan told him that it was okay to experiment with other boys, and I just yelled at him and told him that I wanted to see Ryan, that he should visit, and Brendon just stared at me before sitting down at the front of the bus.

I hate it here. I swear.

I miss Frank, too.


	43. Tuesday, November 10

Somehow—I'm not even sure how—Brendon got to have a visitor today.

It was Ryan.

Everybody saw him, so I guess he was real.

I know this was… probably the second time I saw him, but it still felt a bit weird to me.

He was so nice, and _Brendon completely ignored me the whole time Ryan was here_.

Like, seriously, he grabbed Ryan the moment he walked in and locked themselves in the bedroom.

So, I'm writing this in the cafeteria right now. Well, not really the cafeteria, just, the area behind the cafeteria, like, where the cooks make the food. Tom let me back here. He saw how depressed I looked just sitting outside my room, leaning against the door, holding my journal to my chest, trying not to cry.

He helped me up and took me to where I am now. He fixed me a bowl of cereal and let me drink coffee, but I'm not supposed to tell people that. He said it'll get him fired, and I don't want him to go. I'll miss him.

I'm being held by him right now. He's rubbing my back. He told me to not think about Brendon, Ryan, or anybody that causes grief in my life. He told me to just focus on Frank, because he's the reason I'm in here and the reason that's going to help me get out of here alive.

Why hasn't he called?


	44. Wednesday, November 11

I went to my session with Biersack today alone.

Brendon was still preoccupied with Ryan even if he had left a few hours ago. He was jumping around in our room, in the hallways, and even in the fucking cafeteria. It hurt to look at. I know he's happy and all, but, _my God_, calm. the. fuck. down.

Biersack and I just sat around his office, and he wanted to know if Frank called me any. When I said no, he looked about as sad as I've felt these past few days. He asked me why he didn't, and I just shrugged.

He said that he and some of the other doctors in here are going to be checking our phone calls, since they always record the phone calls any patient gets.

Am I worried? Well, yeah. I told Frank I was going to kidnap him again. I'm scared about what they're going to do to me.

Eh, it can't be that bad. They can't block phone calls from me, since I never get any.

I hope to God that they take Brendon away from me. I don't want to see his fuckin' face for a long time.

I… I just don't know what to do anymore. I truly believe I'm all alone in here.

I'm going to die here. Alone.


	45. Thursday, November 12

I liked Tom. Y'know. As a friend. Not in the romantic sense.

But it's really strange that I kinda broke inside when I walked into the cafeteria just a few minutes ago and found him sitting at a table with his guy, holding hands and kissing. I went to the cafeteria, because I was hungry, and it was really late, so nobody would make fun of the way I eat, but when I saw Tom and whoever the other guy was, I just… froze and ran out. I sat outside my room, and Tom showed up after a few minutes. He sat down next to me and told me that that guy was Mark or Spaulding. I don't know. They called each other names that were just weird. Tom was Boomer or something. I'm not even sure. All I know is that Tom has a boyfriend.

And I hurt inside.

I told Tom to go away, and now, I'm still sitting out in the hallway as I write this.

Brendon was nice enough to come out and give me my journal. He's still giddy about Ryan. I heard him moaning out his name various times over the course of several minutes. I think he's humping a pillow.

It better not be mine.


	46. Friday, November 13

Brendon stopped ignoring me today. Well, he started to come out of the whole phase he went through when he first saw Ryan.

I guess I'm happy. I'm not really sure what to feel.

I feel empty, like I'm just living through these days on a rough cloud filled with dark matter that consumes me when I try to move around.

So, I rarely move. I sit on my bed all day. I only write in my journal. This is my only friend now.

Brendon's not.

Tom's not.

Hell, I don't really count Frank as my friend anymore.

Isn't that a bit sad, Journal? I don't think Frank's my friend. It makes me hurt, but I think I'll get over it.

Probably not, though.

I have a really bad feeling that I'm going to die here by my own hand before I get to see Frank again. I don't know. Maybe I need to talk to Biersack, get some more pills, medication, _I don't know_.

Fuck, Brendon's back. Oh, look, he got me a bowl of Frankenberry.

And a cup of coffee.

Shitshitshitshit.


	47. Saturday, November 14

I'm even starting to think Biersack doesn't want to be around me.

As soon as I stepped into his room to ask him a question, his eyes got wide, and he told me he had to go home, because there was a family emergency that just happened.

I call that bullshit.

I stood by his door for thirty minutes before entering. I was listening, thinking about what I was going to say to him, and when I walked in, he just spits out shit and walks off.

I'm starting to believe that I'm not ever going to get out of this place if the therapists can't even help me.

I'm going to end up staying here forever.

Well, at least Brendon will be staying with me. We got in here on the same crime, so we'll leave at the same time.

Hopefully.

He's been hinting that he's leaving soon.

Am I coming with him?


	48. Monday, November 16

I stayed at the Institution yesterday. I told them I was sick, and when they didn't believe me, I made myself throw up when their backs were turned.

I got to stay in bed all day and sleep. It was pretty cool, considering that all the patients leave the place all day just to go to Church and a restaurant afterwards, so that meant that I didn't get to see Brendon for, like, all day. Yeah.

It was sorta sad when Brendon came back into our room and started asking me how I was feeling, if I threw up anymore, if I wanted him to do anything, etc. He just stood there, asking me, and I pretended to be asleep.

It made my chest hurt a little bit when he started to whine and softly cry, muttering things under his breath about Ryan and how he thought he was never going to get outta here. It's strange, because he was happy about leaving a few days ago.

Mm, I'm confused. I feel like I should hold him or something. I probably will tonight, just so he can stop being such a pussy.


	49. Tuesday, November 17

I stayed in my room all day long today, too.

Brendon stayed with me.

He seems a bit detached from everything. I'm not entirely sure why, though. He keeps telling me awful things, like "this may be the last time we do this, Gerard" and "I'm going to miss doing this with you, Gerard" and "I'm going to remember all the fun times we had while doing this, Gerard".

I started crying at random times.

He held me through it, and it just made me cry even more.

We're doing a puzzle together right now.

I don't want this to be our last.


	50. Wednesday, November 18

Brendon left today.

He wrapped his arms around me, held me, and kissed my forehead. "You're going to be okay, Gerard," he told me, and I believed him.

I saw him walk out the door with his bag over his shoulder. Ryan was waiting on the other side, eyes all wide, a big grin on his face. They embraced and walked off, hand-in-hand.

I started crying right there.

I'm going to miss him.

I feel alone already.

But, but, but I have some good news.

Frank called today.


End file.
